Days from Hell
by Lanky Nathan
Summary: Yeah, Just a bad day for swordsman boy. Occasional swearingONESHOT


Yo. jade-blue, this is in response to your bad day call. :D

I own nothing.

**Days From Hell**

Lying in the blissful caress of sleep, a certain green haired samurai was thoroughly enjoying a fantastic sword fight with his child hood rival. Powering after her as she ran away, a massive boulder of doom fell out of her armpit and smashed into his head. Shuddering awake, he blinked away tears of sleep before realising the boulder of doom hadn't disappeared.

"…the fuck…"

Reaching up, he dragged a massive rope off his head. Looking around, he noticed the 'Going Merry' had docked at some new screwed up town. Standing up he stretched till he felt a pop and an incredible amount of pain shoot down his spine, into his hips and circle his tail bone.

"Fuck."

Hunching forward, he grabbed his swords and hobbled over to the ships guard rail. Reaching it, he pressed his butt into it and slowly started levering himself up straight. Leaning right back, he kept pushing his screaming back backwards till his head touched the outside of the ship. He felt another massive pop and the pain instantly dissipated. Sighing, he relaxed. Being half out the boat, he felt his centre of gravity start leaning away from the safety of wood.

"Fuck."

He crawled out of the ocean dripping wet and with a conveniently placed squid suckered to the side of his head. Grabbing it, he ripped it off and reared his arm back. The squid inked all over his face and hair. Dropping the offending blob of jell-o, he raised a big steel capped boot. Stomping down hard on the animal, he felt his grip on the ground let go and watched as his foot raised itself into his view.

"Fuck."

Staggering up, he noticed a circle of people around him all softly laughing. Grunting, he pushed his way through the crowd and out into freedom. Walking along, his bandanna kept slipping into his eyes, wet and stretched. Still ambling along, he looked from side to side trying to spot any sign of his crew. Still wet, his boots slopped along. Grunting again, he sat down and pulled them off. Slinging them over his shoulder, he wriggled his toes. Taking a step forward he stubbed his first little piggy on the corner of a market stall.

"Fuck!"

After hopping around for a bit, he strapped his boots back on and trudged forward. Slowly, he realised he smelt a fantastic sent and followed his nose. 5 or so minutes later, he found himself at the door to a massive restaurant. Looking down he saw a massive sign saying !FREE FOOD AFTER 11! Finally his luck was looking up. Rushing in, he sat down and ordered everything on the list. As soon as the food appeared he began stuffing his gob. For one whole hour he did nothing but eat. Finally he let out a satisfied belch of approval and lent over the back of his chair. While laying there, something soft landed on his lap. Looking down, he saw it was a bill. Simply smiling, he pointed at the sign and then at the City Clock which read '12:05'. Relaxing back into the chair, he started to drift into the land of pillows and bunnies. An ear grating screech pierced the bunnies straight through the heart and ripped the pillows to shreds, both bleeding heavily before melting into the harshness of reality. Looking up at the head cook, he saw him pointing at a small asterisks beside the AFTER 11 on the sign. Squinting down in the far bottom corner it said in tiny words 'PM only'.

"Fuck."

Charging down the street, he took a sharp left. Looking behind him, about 40 severally pissed cooks were hammering after him, intent on bodily harm. Smiling to himself, he eased into a slow lope. Those fat basterds had no chance of catching him. Jumping into the air, he easily cleared a market stand. Suddenly a massive pain ripped itself through his gut, forcing the wind out of him and causing him to stumble before crashing into another stall. Dammit, perfect timing for the stomach cramps to rear their ugly heads. Looking up, about 10 bristling marketers were standing over him. And what timing as the cooks appeared around the corner, sweating and panting and smelling worse than the fish they dealt with. Every person looking at our poor hero had murderous intentions in their eyes.

"Fuck."

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Staggering up the gangplank to the 'Going Merry', he looked around at everyone. Nami was dancing around in a new mini skirt she had acquired. The pretty boy was going ape as usual, and from the looks of his suspect movements, trying to get a look up Namis skirt. Uusop was playing with some gadget he had bought. Chopper was mixing up a whole lot of potions and Robin had her head buried in a new book. Finally, Luffy was sitting on the head of the sheep, shouting incoherently. Dragging himself past the merry makers, he stomped into his cabin and slung himself into his hammock before promptly flipping out the other side.

"Fuck."

Walking in on the raging swordsman, Robin looked up from her book. The maniacal blood shot eyes he stared at her with caused her to back step.

"Shall I just pretend I saw nothing?"

Taking that as her leave, she stepped out of the room and ran, yes, ran away.

Robin gone, he turned to his hammock. Impaling it with a sword, he climbed in and removed his metal cutting tool. Sliding it back into its sheath, he quickly fell asleep. Rolling over, his hip bone stuck out of the small incision in the suspended rug.

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Later that night, a massive ripping sound was heard before a large bodily thud emanated the floor.

"FUCK!"

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A/N - lol I just wrote that up out of nothingness. Hope its ok :D


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